I welcome the immediate, unplanned chaotic order of the random and let it deliberately guide my hand. With heart and eyes open, items emerge from pastoral plains to grey rubble. Champagne crates and wooden palettes, burlap sacks and broken instruments form an orchestra of the once forgotten. My compassion swells for the feelings of these characters, now, no longer categorized as mere objects. There are gifts, always there, under the tree, waiting to be seen. All one needs is love to co-create with The Mystery. The tools and how to apply them will find you.